The Bird's Battle
by Tallybird
Summary: "It would be best for you to forget about him, Bruce. He's not worth it. This city is planning on taking its anger for you out on him. I delivered the first blow in the war against the bird. Now, I'm getting out while I can, because these people… they want to see you broken. This battle is all just a plot for revenge." LOTS OF ROBIN TORURE slight Rob/Kf bromance Rated for violence
1. Scratched

When I started this I had the urge to write some Robin torture at the hands of a Gotham villain… but I couldn't decide which one. So I said to myself, "Self, why write a short little drabble about a bit of Robin torture at the hands of one villain, when you could write a full blown multi chapter battle between all the villains and Robin?" So that's basically what this is. I started this fic because I had the urge to write Robin torture, meaning there will be lots of violence and gore and what not. It's not just fight scenes and being captured (and keep in mind Dick isn't the only one getting hurt here), there will be sickness, mental issues, disease, self-inflicted pain, and I may even throw some limb cutting in there, and I really haven't decided how it's going to end but so far it's not looking excessively happy. If you have a weak stomach, can't handle it, don't like that kind of thing, or it's a rather touchy subject… don't read.

Also, because I know it bugs people sometimes, the chapters have no set length. There is a specific way I decide where to start chapters that I can't quite tell you because it could lead to spoilers. But I will say it has a lot to do with when various plot points start and whatnot.

I don't own Young Justice, because if I did… it wouldn't be a kids show any more.

* * *

When he woke up he was vaguely aware of a slight pain in his arms. Everything was foggy and he couldn't concentrate. The more he tried to focus, the more his head hurt and his muscles ached every time he tried to move. Still only barely awake, he made the conscious decision to refrain from moving and try not to think too much until he could do so without doing more harm than good.

Just after deciding not to inflict any pain on himself, he was instantly shocked completely awake by a searing pain across his chest. The lash was accompanied by a sharp crack, rivaling lightning. A hoarse moan escaped his lips as his head jerked backwards. The red liquid spilling from the fresh laceration felt so warm and his body was so cold, he almost let himself enjoy the warmth of the deep crimson fluid. Had he been any more light headed, his body any more sore, or his mind any frailer he would have allowed himself to bask in the heat it momentarily provided before it dried and caked up against his skin.

He could hear… something. Rather, he was aware there was something to be heard, but he couldn't make it out. It sounded about as clear as someone miles away babbling into a sheet of cotton. He couldn't find the strength to open his eyes, and his body had gone numb, spare the places it was excruciatingly wounded. Moving was a ridiculously tolling chore and he was only rewarded with more pain. He really was just completely helpless, like a baby bird trapped under the ruthless paws of its feline rival.

He endured a few more lashes before blacking out. Each of them had stung worse than anything he'd felt ever before. The deafening cackles of the leather were almost just as torturous as the pain itself. He was losing blood fast, and he didn't have much blood left to loose. He couldn't think. He felt heavy like he had absolutely no strength left to even try… to try… to…

The wheels screamed against the asphalt as he drove through the sea of filth that was Gotham City. There was something rotten with this place, not that it wasn't always like that but now was different. There was something terrible approaching. Could it be the terrifying climax of their great tragedy, or was it simply another agonizing plot twist in the drawn-out play of life. Whatever was waiting for them in the future, he paid no mind to it, not tonight, and not when his Robin needed him now. He'd run there if it were the only way to reach him in time.

That was the one thing that he'd always had just enough of. He had just enough time to escape a deathtrap, just enough time to deactivate the bomb, to catch the villain, to save the victim, to rescue Robin. All the past incidences where he had had enough time were never reassuring enough that this time would be like the last. This was one of those nights he was utterly shaken to the core with worry for his poor boy. One of those nights that happened… every night.

Batman stormed in, infuriated. He was so engulfed in fear and anger, he wasn't even aware of tearing through the building as relentlessly as he was. He checked every room as he went, quickly and with skill. It was on the landing for the fifth floor when he heard the faint jingle of chains, a clinking that sent a chill down his spine. He ran for the source, the last room in the long hallway. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of running down the hallway, he burst through the door.

He saw Robin standing off in the distance but soon realized he wasn't actually standing. He was being held up, suspended, by handcuffs attached to long metal chains anchored in the walls. Bruce ran closer, shouting for Robin. When he was halfway to his partner the chains gave in and the young boy's body slammed ungracefully onto the floor. It continued to lay there, unresponsive, until Bruce ran over and gathered the small boy in his arms.

He felt a slight movement from him. He was trying to say something but his voice was too weak and just moving his lips took so much concentration and effort. It was a senseless endeavor that only drained him even more.

"Such a touching sight, really," she purred from the shadows, "The caring father figure rushing to aid his young ward."

"I don't have time for you Selena!"

"I know, but you have time for a warning. That boy," she said as she nodded to Robin, "is in some serious trouble. It would be best for your wellbeing, Bruce, to forget about him. He's not worth it."

"You have no idea what he's worth to me."

"No, Bruce, no I don't. But, this city is planning on taking its anger for you out on him. I don't want to see you damaged when it does."

"Then look away, because he will not die as long as I am alive to take the fall for him." He growled.

"Well, we'll see how far you'll take that promise when the time comes." She said as she stalked over to the window, preparing to jump, "Trust me, the coming weeks will present many opportunities for you to test the sincerity of that promise. I did my job; deliver the first blow in the war against the Bird. Now, I'm getting out while I can, because these people… they want to see you broken and I refuse to help them. This battle is all just a plot for revenge."

With that she was gone. Robin began to, ever so slightly, squirm in his grasp. "Shhh, it's okay. Just stay awake until we get home," he pleaded as he ran out of the building and gently laid Dick on the seat in the bat mobile.

The ride was torture. He wanted so badly just to rest. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep for only a moment. But, Bruce was driving so recklessly and it shook him in different directions as he hurriedly swerved through Gotham. He wanted to go to sleep but Bruce wouldn't allow it. Every time he grew still, even if only for a moment, Bruce reached over and shook him out of it.

"Bruce…? I'm … C- cold. S-s-so… c-cold…" he stuttered.

"I know, Dick. I'm sorry. I'm doing what I can to get home."

"… s't-too cold, th- think I might d-die…"

* * *

Yup, this is one of the milder chapters because Selena somewhat respects Bruce's love for Dick and doesn't want to hurt him more than necessary. Since the other villains don't know Bruce on as much of a personal/intimate level as Selena, and most of them have no sanity or conscience, they will do whatever they can to hurt him, though they each have their ways. Some do it by physically beating him; others do it other ways… It all just depends on the villain and my interpretation of them.

Review if you want to see what happens next and what Robin torture lays in store from the next villain!


	2. Frozen

Long chapter, Yay!

* * *

Bruce walked into the room and saw that Dick was finally up. "Hey Dick, you're all stitched up and rested now. How are you feeling?"

"C-cold… re-really cold..."

Bruce eyed the young boy. He was probably lying under about five thick blankets, yet was curled up and shivering as if he were lying there naked. His face was twisted in confusion and helplessness. His lips were blue and he was pale, so pale, and not only was he claiming to feel cold but to the touch he was frigid.

Perhaps he's contracted an illness? But there aren't any other symptoms… we'll just have to wait and see.

"I know, Dick. Just stay here and try to get warm. I-"

"I c-can't… can't ge-get warm…"

"I know, but there's not much else I can do right now," he said as he gently laid a hand on Dick's arm. It was immediately snatched up into a tight hug. Dick clung to him, no, clung to his warmth. It took a bit of trying, but he finally broke free of his grasp. His absence was greeted by a small, pathetic whimper followed by more shuddering.

"Okay, Dick, I'm going out on patrol." He said as he snapped his belt into place.

"Take- Take me with you!" he pleaded, "Adrenaline… the- the rush could help… please?"

"Dick, I-"

"Please!"

He sighed, "No, you're too weak and I don't want to risk you getting hurt again." He walked solemnly over to the door. He knew how much Dick loved patrol, and how much he was hurting now. But, not only was he at risk of hurting himself, but if Selena was telling the truth, there were people out to hurt him… or worse. He took one more glance at his frosty partner, hoping he'd still be there, alive, when he got back.

A few hours later, Dick woke up to the chilling realization that he was colder than when he'd fallen asleep. He was too cold and getting colder with every passing, excruciating moment. Only one thought filled his head.

If I don't get warm, I'll die.

He kept repeating it in his head, over and over.

If I don't get warm, I'll die. If I don't get warm, I'll die. If I don't get warm, I'll die.

He was becoming completely oblivious to everything around him and any rational thoughts in his head. He decided he would find something to warm him. He slowly twisted out of the bed and pressed his feet against the tiled floor. The usual shock of bare feet against cold tile was gone. He was colder than the tile.

He slowly stumbled about, weak and disoriented. He stumbled through a doorway and saw it, his way to get warm.

"Dick?" he looked around the room but couldn't find him. His blankets had been thrown off the bed and his sheets were a jumbled mess. Bruce left the room and wandered down the hall when he smelled a horrifyingly putrid odor. It was one he was familiar with, but would never want to welcome into his house. It was burning his nostrils as he entered the kitchen… the smell of burning flesh.

He saw Dick simply standing over the glass top stove, each hand rested on its own glowing red circle. His eyes were watering, both from the pain and the stench that stung them. "Dick! What are you doing?"

"It's warm, Bruce! The stove, it's warm…"

He ran over and ripped Dick's hands away from the stove. They were completely warped by burns and blisters. He dragged him over to the sink and stuck his hands under the cool, flowing water.

"Bruce, it's cold! The water's cold!"

"What were you thinking?"

Dick tried to squirm out of his grasp but Bruce held him firmly in place. "Why do you want me to be cold again?" he sobbed between tears.

"Dick! Look at your hands!" he shouted, "You burnt them!" He held Dick's palms in front of his face so he could clearly see what he'd done to himself.

He just stood there and blinked at them. It was probably one of the worst burns he'd seen in his life. After all, he had been standing there for who knows how long pressed against a stove on maximum heat. He couldn't move or feel them. It made him wonder if he'd burned them beyond repair. He started to cry silently at the thought of it.

Bruce scooped Dick up in his arms and carried him back to the medical room. He knew who was responsible for this. There was really only one person that could be responsible, and he was going after him. He laid Dick in his bed, bandaged his hands, and sat next to him until he managed to cry himself to sleep. Once he was sure Dick was fast asleep, he whipped out his phone, "Come on… Pick up, Damn it!" After the fourth ring, he finally picked up, "Barry! I need your help!"

"Woah! Calm down Bruce. What's up?"

"I need you to watch Dick while I go after Freeze."

"Why can't he just go with you?"

"Barry!" he growled, "He just can't, and I need you here ASAP!"

"Sorry, Bruce, I can't. But, I could send Wally over if you want…"

"Fine." And, with that he hung up because he knew Wally would be there before he would be able to say goodbye anyways.

"At your service B- woah! What happened to him?"

"He burnt himself."

"Uhh… I don't know what you're talking about but I was referring to the giant slashes on his chest."

"Catwoman whipped him."

"Ah… isn't a whip kinda kinky? Then again, what would you expect form a-"

"Wally! I don't have time for this." he yelled, "Now listen. Don't let him out of your sight for more than literally a second, but if you absolutely have to, tie him down first. Don't let anyone, under any circumstances, in here. Oh and he's going to complain about being cold. Just ignore it."

"Uh…"

But batman was already gone. "Dang it!" he screeched, "Why do he and Rob always do that?" He looked over to the boy wonder in question. His sheets were pulled up over him to about mid-torso. "Had Bruce really said he burnt himself? I wonder…" He leaned over to pull the sheet back but as his finger brushed against Dick's bare chest he felt the boy shiver. "I guess I'll just ask him about it when he wakes up."

An hour later he was still asleep. For a while Wally thought he would get bored of just sitting there watching him sleep, but that turned out not to be all it was. He'd begun violently shaking and sleep talking. Really the only word Wally could make out was 'cold.' After about fifteen minutes he really couldn't help shouting, "Man! Bruce wasn't kidding! He's been complaining about the cold nonstop. Jeez, Bruce! You could have at least told me why!"

Another hour later he was still shaking and shivering. Wally felt bad for just sitting there, doing nothing. It took him a while but he finally thought of something that might help. Gently and carefully he nudged Dick until he had woken up.

"W-Wally? Where's Bruce?" he asked, his speech altered by the shaking.

"He's out. Uh… how are you feeling?"

"… not good. I'm too cold."

"I think I know something that might help… just let me sit up here." He said as he crawled up into the bed right next to Dick. He was really close and it was making Dick blush. "Dude, relax. I'm not going to hurt you or anything."

Wally wrapped his arms around the smaller teen and pulled him closer. Dick was shocked at how he was almost instantly warmed. He looked up to see the reason why, Wally was vibrating. It felt good, the warmth, after being practically frozen for so long. It really was nice here in Wally's warm embrace.

He quickly dozed off to sleep in the comforting hug. He'd shifted his sheets and his hands were now visible. Wally saw the white bandages that were turning dark red at the palms. "Is that where you burnt yourself, Birdy?"

Though he hadn't meant for him to, Dick muttered the answer in his sleep. Wally saw it as an opportunity for some answers, "How'd you get them?"

"Stove…"

"What were you doing on the stove?"

"Trying… to get warm…"

"You… you did this on purpose?"

"The stove was nice and warm… like Wally…"

"Please, Victor!" he pleaded, "My boy's suffering-"

"Like I do every day? Like my wife? Like most the people in this wretched world?" he retorted.

"Robin's not as strong as he leads on sometimes," Batman admitted. "He already tried to warm himself by way of the stove! If I didn't have someone looking after him right now, I would be worried about him baking himself in the oven… or even setting the whole place on fire!"

"Fine… give him this…" he said as he handed him a small vile.

"You're being oddly cooperative," he said as he took the small vile of murky liquid, "Is this really a cure?"

"It could be… but you really don't know for sure, and I'm not telling you. Yes, I am the one who made the freezing virus, but only because I had orders to do so. It was given to Catwoman who was told to inject it into Robin. The two of us were just following orders because we were being forced to. The others are doing it willingly and will take it as far as they want. Now, I could have had orders to make an antidote, or that could be something else, I can't tell you. From here on out I'm allowed, if I choose, no further involvement. That is what I choose. You don't have to give it to him if you don't want to. I won't force you. Now, I would appreciate it if you would get back to your family, or whatever Robin is to you, because I know how easily someone can be lost and I wish that pain on no one."

"Thank you, Victor."

"Don't thank me… I'm the reason Robin is suffering."

"Bruce! Did you get it?" Wally asked eagerly upon the dark knight's arrival.

"I got… something," he said as he held up the vile, "Freeze gave me this, but couldn't say if it was a cure or not. Did his complaining bother you?"

"Actually, I just vibrated him and he was fine for a while. But, I guess he got accustomed to it, or worse, because he's gone back to shivering no matter what I do… Bruce, do you think he'll be okay?"

"I really don't know," he whispered as he held the supposed antidote in his palm, "It's a game, so I suspect they would want him to survive until the end at least… but I don't know if that means I can assume this will pass, or if his life depends on my move per round. So, would his life completely depend on my cooperation?"

Wally was quiet for a second but soon spoke up again, "I would give him the choice… but that's just me."

"But I know he'll want it if I did," he sighed, "He can't think straight like this. He'll do whatever it takes to get warm…"

"He burnt his hands…"

"He did."

Later that evening Bruce sat at the foot of the bed staring at Dick. He'd gotten worse. He couldn't even sleep now, and complained not only of the cold but of numbness. He had actually reached a point where he couldn't feel much of anything because he was so numb. He was also shaking so violently he couldn't stop shaking long enough to even function properly. More than enough times Bruce considered giving him the "medicine," but always told himself just to wait a bit longer in case it stopped, but it never did.

Just then, he received an incoming call from Wally. He'd been calling every hour or so to check up on him, and ask Bruce if he'd tried using the medicine yet. Dick cringed at the ring and Bruce stepped outside so he wouldn't disturb him.

"Yes?"

"Has he gotten any better?"

"Worse," he regrettably mumbled.

"Have you tried giving him-"

"No… But I may have to soon."

He lay there in silence while Bruce was outside. He was uncomfortable, so he shifted slightly and noticed a small bottle on his bedside table as he did so. Hadn't he heard Bruce tell Wally it was a cure? Well, why hadn't Bruce given it to him yet?

With great effort, he sat up. He was still shaking and the numbness didn't help but he managed to lift his torso. He began to reach for it but fell out of the bed. He just lay there shaking for a bit while he collected himself. Eventually he managed to knock the small stable over, sending the bottle rolling in his direction.

His numb, shaking fingers were not helpful in pulling out the small cork, but he managed to remove it from its place. He brought the glass rim to his frozen lips and tilted it just as Bruce burst through the door. Having heard the noise of the table being knocked over, he'd rushed to aid his ward, but found he was too late upon seeing him greedily drinking from the vile.

After the last drop had entered his mouth, he allowed the bottle to slip from his grasp. He sat there, back against the bed, crying.

"Dick! Are you okay?" He shouted as he clutched his small body.

"I can feel it… crawling down my thought like… like hot soup. Bruce… it's warm… it's actually warm!" he exclaimed as he buried his face into Bruce's chest.

Relieved Dick was alive, Bruce exhaled a sigh of relief as he lifted him back onto the bed, "Dick, I'm sorry for what's happened to you. It's my fault-"

"Bruce," he interrupted, "It's fine… I'm fine."

"I hope so," he said to himself as he walked down the hall to his room.

Though, very quickly, he began to question Dick's definition of 'fine' when he heard the coughing and groaning coming from down the hall all night.

* * *

You like? can you guess who the next villan is? probably not, Sometimes the clues are a bit more obvious than others... but what can you do?

Anyways, hope you like! and if you do please review! this is my second least reviewed fic... it's kinda discouraging... and it kinda makes me want to work on other fics insted... IDK, review if you want but if not than I'll probably just go work on something else.


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